


sipping on your lips, hanging on by a thread

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: as long as you stand by me (ffxv works) [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Last Kiss, M/M, Promptis Week, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 01:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Kissing Prompto, Noctis decides, is what his entire life has been leading up to.a series of kisses between noctis and prompto, from how it begins, to how it all ends. it tastes sweet.





	sipping on your lips, hanging on by a thread

**Author's Note:**

> _**first and/or last kiss** | reunion in Zegnautus | “We’re here together.”_
> 
> technically, i think i hit bingo with all three prompts, but my main theme for this one is "kisses shared."  
> this fic is canon compliant, and thus, unfortunately, contains no fix-it happy ending. i know, i'm upset, too.
> 
> title from carly rae jepsen's ["i really really like you"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qV5lzRHrGeg)

 

 

Their first kiss goes a little like this: fumbling hands, nervous eyes, shy smiles, awkward angles, the brush of eyelashes on flushed cheeks. 

There’s an aftertaste of cheese from the pizza they had for dinner, but what Noctis remembers is this—Prompto’s quiet laughter, Prompto’s steady gaze, Prompto’s familiar warmth. Prompto, Prompto,  _ Prompto _ . They’re sixteen and too caught up in each other to care about bumped noses or missed lips, and Noctis couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.

Kissing Prompto, Noctis decides, is what his entire life has been leading up to.

 

 

 

“This is stupid,” Prompto moans. His head hits the table with a soft thump. “I’m stupid. Things stopped making sense, like, two units ago.”

Noctis reaches over and drops his notebook on top of Prompto’s head. His friend grunts, but doesn’t move. “Wanna take a break?”

“Nnngh.”

“We can play some King’s Knight if you want.”

Prompto rolls his head, dislodging the notebook and peering up at Noctis with one eye. “Are you going to sabotage me again?”

“I would never!”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Noctis grins. He leans across the table, smile growing wider when he catches sight of the pretty flush spreading across Prompto’s freckled cheeks. “Or we could skip the game and go straight to the distraction.”

Prompto’s blushing in earnest now, but when he pushes himself up from the table, he’s smiling. It’s a wicked smile, teasing and breathtaking and it does something to Noctis’ heart every time. It’s a very kissable smile.

“If Iggy yells at us later,” says Prompto, even as he’s leaning in, “I’m blaming you.”

Kissing Prompto, as far as Noctis is concerned, will never get old.

 

 

 

Their kisses go like this: quick, spontaneous peck of lips on cheeks, on noses, on another pair of familiar lips. The blushing never really fades away completely but the secret smiles make up for it. Their friends roll their eyes. Their classmates look away and stifle giggles. They lean towards each other, again and again and again.

 

 

 

Mornings are still the bane of Noctis’ existence. He keeps the blinds half-closed, because he finds comfort in the half-dark and because Prompto likes to be woken by natural sunlight. And Prompto has taken to staying over more often, ever since school let out. Not that Noctis is complaining.

Today, Noctis wakes first. A miracle, Ignis would say. An omen, Gladio would say. Prompto wouldn’t stay anything at all. He would just smile sleepily at Noctis and roll over, like he did just now.

Noctis turns on his side and just watches his best friend for a moment. If he was more awake, he would probably be too embarrassed to do so, but right now, he’s in no rush to look away. Prompto is shy, always too flighty under the weight of someone else’s gaze. He’s only ever truly comfortable when he is the one gazing from behind a camera lens. But Prompto is beautiful, and Noctis wishes he could see himself the way Noctis sees him. 

Messy blond hair splays across more than half the pillow, succeeding in pushing Noctis off some time during the night. His mouth is slightly open, his chest rising and falling in a steady, slow rhythm. He looks kind of stupid. He looks extremely soft. 

Without really registering it, Noctis is reaching out and poking Prompto on the nose. He watches the other boy’s face scrunch up, stirring at the small disturbance. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says.

Prompto squints at him. “Who are you and what did you do with Noct?”

Noctis laughs. Effortlessly, so easily, he leans over and kisses Prompto. He kisses him until Prompto starts giggling and squirming underneath him, chasing his lips, slipping down and peppering small kisses along his jaw. Prompto’s hands scrabble at his sides, but Noctis can’t tell if he’s trying to push him away or pull him closer.

Mornings like this, Noctis thinks, aren’t so bad.

 

 

 

The day after the terms of the treaty is announced, Noctis sits as close to Prompto as he can without clinging onto him. Prompto presses in just as close. Neither of them can find the courage to meet each other’s eyes.

“I’m—”

“Noct, I—”

They both stop. Noctis closes his eyes and sighs. He takes Prompto’s hand and locks their fingers together. Prompto squeezes back.

“Hey,” says Noctis. “Come with me? With us. I need you with me out there.”

Prompto leans forwards until their foreheads bump together. They’re close enough Noctis can count each of his freckles individually. 

“Okay,” Prompto whispers. “As long as you’ll have me.”

_ Always _ , Noctis doesn’t say.

That kiss tastes a little different from all the rest, but it lasts. It tastes a little bittersweet, a little salty. But it feels safe, as if they’re hiding in this moment and in their connectedness, the future and everything else it might bring are kept at bay.

They don’t kiss again after that.

 

 

 

Noctis hasn’t been out to the waters in a long time. He has memories of learning to fish and then spending hours and hours sitting patiently by the waters, but coming out here with his friends is a breath of fresh air. Time passes slower here. People don’t give him a second glance here.

He sits by the pier, watching sunlight glitter over clear blue. Somewhere back on the beach, Gladio is taking a nap and Ignis is striking up a conversation about food. Beside him, Prompto is snapping away with his camera.

Sunshine looks good on him. Noctis is torn between paying attention to his fishing line and staring at his best friend. He has never wanted to kiss someone more.

But he can’t. It’s not fair to him. They agreed on this before they left.

So Noctis sits next to his best friend and focuses on the tugs of his fishing rod instead of the tugs on his heart.

 

 

 

Then Insomnia falls, and everything is different again.

“Please,” he says to Prompto, under the cover of the night. Their room is above the waters, but he has never felt farther away from the blue paradise. “I need you.”

And Prompto, with tears in his eyes and a heart bigger than Noctis could ever hope to have, lets him press close, lets him seal their mouths together, lets him find some temporary solace.

Prompto deserves better. Noctis knows. But he has never once felt like the invincible king he is supposed to be, so he braces himself against his best friend and lets himself be selfish at the end of the world as he knows it.

 

 

 

Their kisses are found here:

  * in the corner booth of Takka’s diner, ketchup stains and doodled napkins,
  * behind the caravans, just out of reach of the lamplights,
  * in the backseat of the Regalia while Gladio and Ignis politely take a longer than usual time doing a supply run,
  * in an empty tent under the excuse of waking Noctis up,
  * under a lake, where curious fish swim around them and the world is suspended for just a moment,
  * on the edge of a cliff, above a Haven, while the sun begins to set,
  * in the chocobo ranch, while a baby chocochick flutters in Prompto’s lap,



and all over Lucis, in hidden pockets of time and secret nooks and crannies of this kingdom that Noctis is just starting to learn again. These kisses won’t go down in any history books or legends sung, but each and every one is imprinted in Noctis’ heart, and that’s enough. That’s enough for him.

 

 

 

“You’re more than enough for me,” Noctis tells Prompto, on an anonymous motel rooftop one night. “I mean it, Prom. You’re—so important to me, I—I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d still have Iggy and Gladio.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same, you know?”

Prompto stares out into the darkness. Noctis holds his breath. But when Prompto turns back, he meets Noctis’ gaze steadily.

“I feel the same,” he says. “You guys are the most important people in my life. I wish things were different but... I’m glad I came along.”

When Noctis leans in, Prompto doesn’t hesitate to close the space between them, as naturally as breathing. 

 

 

 

Altissia falls, and no amount of kisses can take away the raw, bleeding pain that has carved out a home inside Noctis’ heart. Everything is falling apart. He is an island, drifting out of sight from the shore.

The sunlight doesn’t reach this place anymore.

 

 

 

Prompto falls.

Noctis’ heart isn’t bleeding anymore; instead, a deep, hollow ache has settled where a campfire used to burn inside his chest. 

He wishes he had kissed Prompto more, when he had the chance.

 

 

 

“Tell me, were you worried about me?”

“What kind of question is that,” Noctis whispers. Prompto doesn’t answer. But he’s here now, found again, trembling helplessly in Noctis’ arms. He appears whole but is he really. Are any of them really.

Noctis is so, so tired.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking.

“No,” Prompto says back. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

It’s hard to tell whose tears he is tasting upon rough, bruised skin. But warmth blooms across scarred hands, and Noctis chases it, presses his lips against familiar freckles, hopes to cut himself on Prompto’s collarbones. He’s not letting him out of his sight again. He wants to drown himself in Prompto’s mouth, lose himself in the starlight of Prompto’s eyes.

“I’m scared,” he admits to the constellation he finds on Prompto’s left shoulder.

“Me, too,” Prompto says quietly. He kisses him softly, so gently, and Noctis can almost remember how it used to be. Back home. “But, you know,” Prompto tells him, “at least we’re all here. Together.”

Noctis seals their mouths together and tries not to taste tragedy on cracked lips.

 

 

 

When Noctis wakes, it is dark. His lips are dry and his shoulders are heavy. He feels eternities older, and yet much too young. When he finds his friends again, the ashes in his heart remains ashes. When he looks at Prompto again, his heart shudders, and then silently breaks apart like a weary, hopeless sigh.

“Sure kept us waiting, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I—” Noctis clears his throat. “Took the scenic route.”

“And you didn’t take any pictures?”

Noctis doesn’t comment on how Prompto’s camera is sitting in the corner, years of dust gathered on its surface. He’s missed so much already. He doesn’t have any more time to waste.

“Prompto,” he says, and then stops. For a moment, he just sits there, in the storage-room-turned-spare-room in Cindy’s garage, staring at the boy he once knew. The man he is now. 

He wants to stay. Six, he wants to stay so bad.

As if he can feel the lump growing in Noctis’ throat, Prompto lifts a hand towards Noctis’ face, and goes, “Come here.”

So Noctis swallows all the promises he can’t say, and goes.

 

 

 

Their last kiss tastes a little like this: sweat and tears, the sharp tang of blood where there is none, not anymore, not right now, not  _ yet, _ something heavy and sour at the back of the throat, something soft and sweet like a half-forgotten pop song from years and years ago.

It lingers.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ffxv broke into my home, stole my money, ruined my life, and destroyed my heart
> 
> come talk promptis to me @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter~


End file.
